Harry Potter and the New Beginning
by pronqs
Summary: The war has ceased. Lord Voldemort is dead. But the Wizarding World is changing, trying to pick up its pieces and rebuild a new world. Harry, Ron and Hermione have a massive role to play, but they are struggling to get themselves together, and leave the horror of their past behind.
1. Waking Up

Harry woke up suddenly, as if a loud noise had awoken him. His eyes snapped open, looking up at the red curtain that covered his 4-poster bed. He turned his head to the right to see soft sun streaming in through the window, showing that it was almost certainly afternoon. No one was in the room; he was quite alone. For a moment, he enjoyed the peace, vaguely noticing that his body, particularly his chest, was hurting.

He sat up in bed, surveying the area and pushing the sheets off his body. There was a dull ringing in the back of his head, trying to tell him that all wasn't well, but he ignored it, pushing it further back into his mind. He was enjoying the numb peace, and he intended to keep it like this as long as he could. Harry stretched, and then yawned loudly, feeling immensely tired in spite of his seemingly long sleep. He then reached his arm across to the old wooden bedside table, where he retrieved his glasses.

Almost as soon as he touched the cold metal, everything came flooding back to him.

The pain, the grief of the events that had happened in the last 24 hours came flooding back. Harry dropped his glasses, immediately feeling queasy, then crouched over, putting his head in his hands, taking deep breaths. The sensation of nausea built up until he felt like vomiting. Images were flooding through his head, of Tonks, Lupin, Fred, Colin - all lying dead, Percy shielding his brother's body from further harm, the Weasleys in utter grief over Fred, lying in the Great Hall…

Pain and grief were flooding throughout his body, to the tips of his fingers, right in his heart. It was his fault; he could've stopped it happening –

His throat suddenly constricted, making it hard to breathe. Stumbling out of bed, and into the small toilet area, Harry promptly vomited the little amount that was in his stomach into the sink.

Panting, Harry closed his eyes, trying to block out the world around him, and focus. It was impossible, though, when memories, running through his head like still photos, were pressing themselves onto him, hollowing out his insides.

He turned away, and walked clumsily back to his bed, where he promptly fell into it, face down.

'Harry?' said an exhausted, yet familiar voice.

Harry jumped suddenly, and looked up to the door through puffy eyes, still breathing heavily, pain wracking his body.

It suddenly occurred to him that he couldn't see anything without his glasses, and fumbled to reach them. He shoved them on, and a dead weight fell through his body when he saw who it was.

Harry was unsure of what to do. After 10 months of separation, Harry had thought about their reunion, but it was always at the Burrow, and not after a battle in which had resulted in her brother, and many others, dying. It was always full of joy, happiness, not shrouded by grief and tears.

Ginny moved closer to him, and sat down on the bed gingerly.

As she came into focus, Harry almost gasped in surprise. Her usual bright, happy face that always seemed to glow with energy and happiness was replaced with a gaunt, hollow look. Her cheek had a large gash on it and bruises covered most of her face. Her warm, chocolate eyes looked empty and hard.

'Harry,' she whispered to him, 'how could you? I -'

Choking slightly, she broke off, and looked away. He could tell she was crying.

He stared at her, not knowing how to react... He replayed what had happened in his mind, remembering properly...

He had killed Lord Voldemort... But there were still Death Eaters out there. The Wizarding World was safer than it had been in a long time, but danger still lurked around... and the effects of the war, the people who had been affected would never forget...

_If only I knew to die earlier…_

Harry stopped his train of thoughts and looked over to Ginny. He mentally punched himself. _Go and comfort her, _he thought. He shifted over to Ginny hastily, and hugged her tightly, feeling slightly awkward. She sobbed into his shoulder loudly, a wet patch forming on his robes. Harry felt his face get wet too, and he blinked furiously.

Only now that he was back with Ginny, did he realise that he had missed her so much that he could burst. He felt a pang of grief as he realised she was suffering more than he was. She had lost a brother to the horrible war that had ripped people apart, and she would be affected forever.

'I'm sorry,' Harry said quietly.

Ginny slowed her breathing down.

'I just… I just don't know why you would've let me think that you were dead,' she said jerkily, still trying to steady her breathing.

Harry sighed. He knew he would have to tell her eventually. But he couldn't now.

'Listen, Ginny, I – er, I can tell you everything, but can we do this later? I –'

Harry stopped suddenly, hearing footsteps and a loud voice calling up the stairs.

'…OK, Hermione, I'm just getting him now…'

Over Ginny's shoulder, Harry saw Ron entering the doorway. His ears turned a bright pink. Harry suddenly realised why when he felt Ginny's arms slowly drop from his waist to turn and look at Ron.

Ron looked extremely uncomfortable. After a rather awkward silence, Ron opened his mouth, about to say something.

'Er … Harry, and Ginny too, I guess … do you, erm, want to come down to the Common Room?'

He cleared his throat, and when Harry nodded, left as quickly as he could.

Harry turned to look at Ginny, prepared to share a smile, or a look of sympathy. But Ginny was standing, and walked out of the room as quickly as Ron, leaving Harry feeling slightly alone.

* * *

Harry was seated in his old favourite armchair. He felt like it was luxury to enjoy the benefits of a comfy chair; something he had not been able to do in months. He felt more at ease here in this warm, welcoming and familiar room. When Harry was here it was like the war never happened. The fire was crackling merrily, the armchairs sitting exactly how they always were, the bins overflowing with parchment and broken quills, and the room itself, smelling of pine and wood with a tang of smelly student. The room was deserted apart from them.

The others were on the couch, opposite him. They sat in silence, waiting for someone to speak. Harry felt they shouldn't be wasting time with him; their family would want to be together now, they would need each other.

'Look, you should be with your family. They would want you –'

'We've been with them all morning,' said Ron. 'Mum told us to check on you, and Ginny because she left … but yeah, we're staying for a while, and when we go back, you're coming.'

Harry looked at Ron. He had a challenging look in his eyes. He wasn't going to let Harry mope around, avoiding them. He had changed, he realised, and things were going to be different now. A lot different…

Harry nodded briefly, looking away into the hot fire. Sirius's head had been there often, giving advice to him many times…

He quickly turned back to the group as Hermione started to tell Ginny about the Horcruxes and their journey in the past year. Ginny's eyes were wide as Ron interjected and told her ashamedly that he had walked out (Ginny smirked at this and said 'Pathetic, Ron!') but Ron continued to tell Ginny what had happened. When it got to arriving at Hogwarts, though, Harry interjected.

He did not want Ginny to know he was a Horcrux yet; it made him feel tainted. So he told her about the diadem and skipped the forest. Ginny had wide eyes.

'Wow,' she said quietly, looking at Harry. 'But I still don't –'

'Well what happened with you? With the Carrows?' Ron asked, concern in his voice, not realising he had butted into Ginny.

Ginny would know the truth, Harry was sure of that. But he did not want to tell her here, with Ron and Hermione to interject. He wanted to tell her alone, so that she would understand from him. He didn't know why; it just seemed more fitting.

Harry snapped back to attention as Ginny began to speak in a trembling voice of what had happened to her in the past year. She had been tortured almost every week since she had come back to Hogwarts, for standing up to Snape and the horrible rules he led. And it was by students, taught by the Carrows.

His anger was building up as she told them about Luna, Neville and herself trying to steal the sword and them getting punished, helping students sneak out of detention and getting caught, then eventually, Ginny went home and didn't return.

'I wasn't going back anyway, apparently,' she said shakily, 'Mum didn't want me to, and the family was going into hiding…'

Harry turned away to the fire again, avoiding the other's looks. He was really dreading going back to everyone, knowing that they had suffered, waiting for him to act. He had taken months to do it… and when he had, a battle had broken out, killing people with lives, with purpose… it seemed, to Harry, that everything was his fault.


	2. The Great Hall

It was a cold, clear night. It seemed so innocent, so nice, that Harry was almost angry at it for not realising that so many had died under these stars.

Harry felt queasy in the Entrance Hall, standing alone, as the others had left beforehand.

He, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had left the Gryffindor Common room to come here before. Ginny had entered instantly, but Ron and Hermione had hovered, waiting for Harry, before Harry told them to go without him. Harry noticed that Ginny had been avoiding his gaze. He was extremely confused about her reaction… He hadn't done anything wrong, had he?

Pushing thoughts of Ginny to the back of his mind, he took a deep breath, and then walked inside to the Great Hall.

The scene that met his eyes did not belong in a Great Hall, not this one. There were people in tears everywhere, sobbing. The celebrations had moved from the ruined Great Hall, leaving the dead and their grievers, and the people who weren't in desperate need of healing. The seriously injured had moved out of the hall and into the Hospital Wing by now, Harry suspected, but there were some wearing blood-drenched robes with bruises, cuts and gashes on their limbs.

But worse of all were the dead, laying peacefully though all the chaos, as though they were sleeping. It was weird, unnatural.

Harry looked over to the Weasleys, his first family. His eyes sought Ginny, who was hugging her mum, and staring at her brother's body with tears trickling down her soft face.

Harry looked away, feeling more alone than ever. He turned away to get out, but then his eyes fell on Remus and Tonks' bodies, where no one was standing.

He walked over to them; his face down, avoiding the many faces staring at him. He reached Tonks first.

Her hair was its usual bubblegum pink, and she had a little cut on her forehead, her eyes closed peacefully. Her arm was not stretched out like it was before, but lying next to her. She looked peaceful, yet happy, like the place she was in was not so bad. He felt the sudden urge to say something.

'Goodbye, Tonks,' Harry whispered to her body, 'I promise I will look after Teddy. T-thanks f-for being a grea - a great friend. I h-hope you are fine n-now with L-Lupin –'

As his whisper faded away to nothing, a few tears fell down Harry's face, and he brushed them away impatiently.

He then went to Lupin's body. He looked in thought, wise, like he was still planning in a meeting for the Order, or strategising for the best way to attack the enemy. His pale skin had bruises and a few cuts.

'Remus,' he began in a whisper, 'I am so, so sorry you had to die. You were - are - a great friend and f-father, no m-matter what I s-said.'

Harry rubbed his burning eyes and tried to swallow the choking feeling in his throat as he remembered the last time he had talked face to face with Lupin. It felt horrible, and sticky, but the tears kept coming thickly. He closed his eyes to try to steady his breathing. _In, out Harry ... Keep breathing..._

An arm wrapped around his shoulders, light and comforting, taking Harry's breath away.

He turned to see who it was, and was shocked to see Ginny.

'Harry,' she said through her tears, 'don't you ever leave me again!' She launched herself at him, crying with shuddering breaths, and Harry took her warmth, needing something to cling to.

'Harry, you have to see them.' Ginny murmured into his ear. 'Come on, they don't blame you, they really don't.'

Harry sighed. He couldn't put it off any longer.

He broke the hug with her resentfully, and then walked through the sea of bodies over to the Weasley family, with Ginny at his side.

Mrs Weasley looked 10 years older, her face contorted with loss and pain. Mr Weasley had his arm around her, tears streaming down his face. The others were gathered around Fred's body, hugging and staring in shock.

Harry felt the urge to run, but bit it down. He gave Mrs Weasley a big hug, trying to convey several emotions at once.

'I'm sorry,' he said finally, 'for everything.'

Mrs Weasley pulled out of the hug.

'Harry, none of this is your fault. Fred - Fred didn't d-die because of you, he - he did it because he wanted a better world –'

She didn't finish as her throat choked up. Harry pulled her back into hug that lasted for a while.

'You're a good boy, Harry dear,' she said sadly, with a half-hearted pat on his back.

Harry nodded at her, gave Mr Weasley a brief hug, to which he nodded at him stiffly, and then went to Ron.

'Harry?' said Ron when Harry approached him.

'Yep,' said Harry, standing beside him.

Tears were falling off Ron's long, freckled nose, and he was hugging Hermione, whose face was buried into his chest.

He put his hand on Ron's shoulder in reassurance. They stood there, together as a trio once more for the first time after the war. Harry sort of treasured the moment strangely; he had a feeling that they weren't going to be spending as much time together. Harry then saw Fred's body for the first time after death properly.

He was exactly how he remembered: a replica of George. His eyes were closed, skin pale. His mouth still had the trace of a smile.

Harry looked beside Fred and saw George, sitting with Percy and Bill, his face pained like someone had dug a dagger into his side. Something hit Harry like a muggle injection, but filled with realisation; pain spread through his body, and he had to move to lessen it.

'I'll be back,' he said to Ron, and he nodded.

Harry approached George slowly, not sure what his reaction would be like. The young man's body was shaking in grief; tears were all over his face. It was as if a dementor had appeared, but this must be worse than watching the kiss.

'George?' Harry asked when he was close enough.

He turned to face Harry, anger and grief etched all over his features. He, as everyone in the battle was, badly cut, grazed and bruised. His breathing was irregular, and tears were steaming down his face. He was nothing like the joking, happy person he knew.

'Er –'

Harry couldn't find any words. He couldn't think clearly, all he could see was Fred's body and the look on George's face.

Harry felt his throat burning with that horrible, sticky feeling again. He muttered excuses, and then ran from the Weasleys, and out of the Great Hall. He felt people staring at him, but he ignored it.

Harry was now running blindly, up stairs, into corridors, through doors. He ran, trying to leave the horror behind him. He ran until he couldn't anymore, and stopped, panting for breath. He looked at his surroundings, and realised he was outside a broom cupboard door that was very familiar to him.

This broom cupboard was where Ginny and Harry had met several times throughout his sixth year, when they ached for privacy. They had talked, laughed and kissed; the very sight of the door made him ache for those times.

Harry felt blood pounding through his head as he opened the door and walked in, the familiar sent of wood and pine filling the area. He staggered onto the bench and took several shuddering breaths, closing his eyes again to try and think clearly, but all that came were a string of never-ending thoughts.

Fred wouldn't be at the Burrow again... Harry would never see Colin again... Tonks and Lupin would never see how their child grew up, never experience parenthood.

He felt so bad, so ashamed to exist. He was the cause of the fight; he had led Voldemort to Hogwarts. He was responsible, whatever people said. He knew it was the truth.

Harry's breathing was shallow, and quick. He couldn't get the same thought out of his head. _He was responsible_. Images of the dead and the people in grief were rushing through his head. Tonks, laughing as she changed appearance at dinner, Lupin, smiling at Harry in his third year as he produced a patronus for the first time, Colin, meeting him and him taking his picture, and Fred, always with George, laughing, setting off fireworks, getting told off by Mrs Weasley for some sort of mischief he and George had got up to. Even Sirius, Dumbledore, Cedric, and his parent's deaths were running through his mind.

Then, suddenly, he couldn't breathe. He felt light headed, and slumped to the ground, gasping for air he couldn't take in.

The spot where the killing curse had hit him seared with pain as he fell, and almost instantly caused the world around him to fade to black.

**A/N: Hi! Sorry there was no Authors note on the last one. This is my first story and I was just working things out a bit! (;**

**So basically I'm going to try and post every Sunday. But school and other things might get in the way so we'll see.**

**This fanfic is basically going to extend until the end of Harry's year, so it will probably be quite long. I intend to try and keep everything as canon as possible, and keep writing it in the same style as J.K. (which is very hard!)**

**Please give me tips and things… they are appreciated! I hope you like the story! (:**


	3. Expectations

'Harry, Harry please wake up, p-please wake up, Harry...'

Someone was sobbing into his chest, making a wet patch on his robes. His eyes flickered open, and he turned his face to look at whoever was crying. He vaguely saw a mass of red hair flowing out on his chest.

'Ginny?' He said hoarsely.

'HARRY! Oh Harry! I thought you were dead! P-please don't d-do that to me again-'

She broke off, choking. Harry sat up, swallowing his wince in his throat as he did so.

His brain was still foggy… Why was Ginny here? How did she find him?

Harry peered down at her with effort, and noticed her breathing had returned to normal. He tilted Ginny's head up to look at him.

Ginny's chocolate brown eyes were melting into his, and Harry felt a need for his lips to be pressed against hers...

He leaned into her face and kissed her, the pain washing away instantly as the wonderful oblivion set in around them. Harry had forgotten the feeling of fire that he felt every time he was with her, making him feel alive, and worth something. He ran his fingers through her long hair, her hand on his face -

Ginny broke off suddenly.

'What?' Harry asked in surprise.

'I want to talk about what – what happened. Properly,' she said, a dark look filling her face.

'Oh… yeah ok…' said Harry, suddenly nervous. 'D'you want to go somewhere else?'

Ginny nodded and stood up.

'Yes… that would be better than here,' she said, more sharply than usual.

Ginny stood up and left the room, Harry closely following. They walked in silence, in the direction to the Common Room. He tried to ignore the enormous damage that had been made to the buildings, as looking at them made him feel queasy.

Harry glanced at Ginny. Her face was impassive, but her eyes were full of anger. Just before they got to the marble staircase, Ginny beckoned Harry into an empty room.

He turned to look at her, taking a deep breath and preparing to tell her what had happened.

'Ginny –'

He got no further as she pulled her hand up and slapped him.

'How – could – you –!' she screamed. Harry backed away, his face stinging with the force of the hit.

'Gin – Ginny, what's -?'

She started to breathe heavily, her eyes brimming up with tears, looking at Harry intently.

'I miss-ed y-you so-o much H-Harry,' she said shakily, 'and-d then y-you were d-dead –'  
She turned away from him, her body shaking with tears. She slid down the wall, until she was huddled in a shuddering ball.

'Ginny…' he said, having no idea how to react.

He felt like he should say something, and go comfort her, but he had no idea what to do. What should he do? She was obviously unhappy with him… _Yeah, good one, Sherlock, _he thought stupidly.

'You have no idea what it's been like!' she screeched, breaking the silence and making Harry jump. 'Everyone terrified! Not knowing whether you were dead or not! The only effing thing I could do was stay at school and stand up to Snape! GREAT LOT OF HELP I WAS!'

Ginny was standing up now, her hair crumpled and messy, fists curled up like tight balls.

'I WAITED FOR YOU! I WANTED TO HELP! I WANTED TO GO WITH YOU, AND DO SOMETHING… BUT YOU JUST LEFT ME HERE, TO WAIT FOR YOU, EXPECTED TO JUST SIT AND TWIDDLE MY THUMBS WHEN ALL MY FAMILY WAS OUT THERE…'

'Ginny, that's not – I didn't want to –' Harry felt hopeless now.

'BUT YOU DID!' she looked quite insane now, and was pacing backwards and forward endlessly. 'AND LOOK! I'VE DONE NOTHING! YOU JUST WENT BECAUSE YOU THINK THAT IT WOULD BE OK!'

Harry felt anger building up inside him.

'You think I left because I could? You think I left because I wanted to go on a camping trip?' he shouted, 'I had to go. I was the only one who could stop him! I DIDN'T HAVE A CHOICE!'

'WELL GO AND SEE MADAM PROMFREY THEN!' she screamed at him, 'YOU'D WANT A CHECK-UP AFTER YOUR _ADVENTURES_! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE, HARRY!'

'FINE!'

Harry kicked the wall, ran out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

Harry thundered through the corridors for the third time that day… the argument with Ginny was running through his head. The words she had said stung more than the hit… though, the more he thought about it, the more he thought he deserved it.

Without really realising that he had reached the door to the hospital wing, he opened the large doors and entered the room.

The hospital wing was more crowded than Harry had ever seen it. People everywhere had filled the beds to the brink. The place was buzzing with chatter.

To his surprise, he saw Neville there. He looked exhausted, with blood on his face and robes, the sword of Gryffindor propped up against the wall. He smiled broadly when he saw Harry in the doorway.

'Hey, Harry!' he said, walking over to him. 'We did it! We did it!'

Harry smiled slightly; yes, they had done it… but at a terrible cost.

'Yeah, I know Neville! You were amazing,' Harry said, trying to inject a positive tone to his voice.

Neville beamed, and patted Harry on the shoulder.

'Gran told me how proud she was… I don't think she thought that I could do something like that, you know? I didn't either, to be honest… but there the snake was, and I thought, Harry told me to kill it, he thought I could… so I just did it. Like that. It wasn't even that special. I know what you mean know about how it doesn't take much skill when you're in a situation like that... I mean, _I _did it… and I'm hopeless. Harry? Are you ok?'

Harry had zoned off a bit; he felt exhausted after the argument with Ginny, and all he really wanted to do was hide for a bit, and then maybe see Ron and Hermione.

'What? Oh… yeah, I'm fine, Neville. Just a little tired…'

Neville clapped his hand on Harry's shoulder again.

'Go on. Madam Promfrey will want to treat you… see you later, Harry… you did great, remember that…'

'Yeah, thanks, Neville…'

Neville wandered back to his bed, a triumphant smile still on his face. Harry was forcefully reminded of the time that Neville had been praised by the imposter-Moody on his Herbology in forth year.

'Potter! Oh, I expect you'll want to be checked over, come this way…'

Madam Promfrey's brisk voice cut through his thoughts, and he found himself being pushed towards an empty bed.

'Oh… yes, I do…'

She walked him over to an empty bed that appeared with the flick of her wand. She then checked him over with her skilful hands, stopping over Harry's chest, precisely where the killing curse had hit him, when he winced.

'Did that hurt?' she said.

'Yes,' said Harry, through gritted teeth.

She tutted, and then walked off to retrieve a number of potions, which made she then made Harry swallow in varying amounts.

When she had finished administrating the potions, she forced him into a bed. Harry did not want to rest, he wanted to go and find Ron and Hermione, and maybe even Ginny…

'But, Madam Promfrey, I've had about 12 hours sleep, I don't need to…'

'Nonsense. Potter, you need rest, especially after – hey! Potter!' Madam Promfrey called out to him, because Harry had leapt out of bed, and taken off out of the wing.

Dodging several bemused patients, Harry ran to the door and closed it behind him, blocking out Madam Promfrey's anguished yells.

Harry felt himself in that same, dazed sort of sate; he suspected one of the potions had made it hard to think. One thought was ringing inside his head, as clear as anything, though: _find Ron and Hermione._

For the forth time today, Harry set off through the destroyed corridors of the castle.

This time he was alone, and not in a flying temper or ridden with grief, and he let himself look at the amount of damage that had been done to the old castle.

Harry reminisced over the times he had had at Hogwarts; it seemed like a lifetime ago that, he, Ron and Hermione had been normal students, taking classes, worrying about homework… well, not exactly _normal _students, they were worrying about Voldemort half the time as well…

By the time Harry reached Gryffindor Tower, he had a heavy heart. Seeing the Fat Lady looking at him expectantly, he realised he hadn't a clue what the password was.

'Er – I don't know what the password is…' he said lamely.

The Fat Lady raised her eyebrow.

'You know the usual rules. No password, no entry.'

Harry nodded his head glumly, and made to turn away.

'But, seeing as this isn't usual times… In you go, Harry,'

Harry smiled appreciatively at her, but he also felt surprise. He didn't know she knew his name. He had been at the school for 6 years, he supposed.

He entered through the portrait hole, and into the common room. He was surprised to see the Weasleys there, along with some other families scattered about, looking worn and tired. He recognised Dennis Creevy, with what Harry supposed was his parents. He avoided their gaze and walked slowly towards the Weasleys.

He stopped just outside of the circle, looking at them, the burning feeling in his throat returning.

Then Hermione stood up from next to Ron and Ginny, and walked over to him. She put her arm around his shoulders.

'All right, Harry?' she said quietly.

Harry couldn't find words. He started to nod, but then shook his head.

'It's ok. We're going home.'

* * *

**A/N: Hi again! Sorry it took so long to update. It was the last week of term and I was pretty busy. Now it's the holidays and I'll be able to post a lot more!**

**I would really appreciate feedback! Reviews are very much wanted, thank you to those who have (: **

**I know my story has major flaws in it. I spent about 2 weeks editing the first chapter, and nowhere near as much on these last two, so they are a bit rocky (I was really nervous about posting it for some reason).**

**The story will move along faster, I just thought it would be important to include this bit in detail. I'm trying ok.**

**So I've rambled on and no one will actually read this haha. Oh well. Thanks again and Happy Easter! (if you celebrate it)**

**~Ohthosebooks xo**


	4. The Burrow Again

The familiar plunging into darkness, the sensation of not being able to breathe; and then Harry hit the ground of the paddock near the Burrow with a thud.

Harry could hear the other Weasleys arriving with the same, small pop. The fresh night air was like a first breath to him, it was clearing his head and he felt able to think.

His head was aching; he couldn't tell if it was from tiredness, or from thinking. Either way, all he wanted to do was lie down, uninterrupted, and sleep.

'Harry?' said Hermione quietly, interrupting his thoughts.

'Yes,' he said, through gritted teeth.

'Do you want to come inside? Come on, you're still wearing those ghastly clothes from yesterday…'

Harry hadn't noticed that. He suddenly felt self-conscious, and realised he didn't smell very nice. But all he wanted was peace for a few moments in the fresh air…

'Hermione… could you please leave me alone for a while?'

'But – don't you want to change?'

'Hermione!'

She squeaked and Harry heard her run off after the others to the house; the protective enchantments still in place prevented them from Apparating directly into the Burrow's immediate surroundings.

Harry sighed. The momentary peace was gone, and he felt no satisfaction, just dull dread of having to face the Weasleys again.

He turned around to face the Burrow. It was a distant shadow against the starry, moonlit sky. He could see the Weasleys and Hermione, wands raised with light pouring from them. He ached to be with them, but he knew that inflicting his presence with them would be a horrible thing to do to them tonight.

But Harry was exhausted. He just wanted to lie down and never wake up. Sighing, he trudged towards the Burrow, which now had lights appearing in the bottom level.

The walk through the paddock to the Burrow seemed to take much longer than it did for the others. Opening the gate to sweet, overgrown garden that he had always loved sent a pang through his heart. He hesitated before the door, the plants overgrown and sweet smelling, the old rusty cauldrons piled messily at the front door; he could hear the Weasleys inside, yet they were barely making a noise. He summoned that last of his energy, and opened the door.

Harry stood in the doorway, surveying the area awkwardly. The living room occupied the Weasley boys: Bill and Charlie were sitting on either side of George, who was pale white, staring at something no one else could see. Ron was next to Percy, and they were talking quietly.

Mrs Weasley was bustling in the kitchen, muttering to herself and presumably cooking. Mr Weasley was dashing in and out of different rooms, making lists of things they needed to collect from Muriel's. Hermione and Ginny were nowhere to be seen.

Ron was the first to notice Harry. He muttered something to Percy, who nodded, then beckoned Harry to follow him up the stairs.

Harry followed Ron up the stairs, all the way to the little attic room that was Ron's bedroom.

Harry made to open the door, but Ron stopped him.

'The ghoul, remember?' he said, referring to the ghoul that he had transformed last year to look like Ron with spattergroit.

Harry nodded, and stepped back. Ron grimaced.

'It's going to smell, isn't it?' Ron asked.

Harry nodded again, grimly.

'On three,' he said. 'One… two… three!'

They opened the door, and the same stench that the ghoul had left previously in the attic now filled the air around them. They saw that ghoul moaning and leering towards them, but Ron shoved the door closed on its face.

'Well, we can't sleep here tonight, can we?' said Ron.

Harry shook his head, and began to turn away.

'Look, Harry,' said Ron, more seriously, grabbing his arm. 'I know you're beating yourself up. Don't.'

Harry turned back to Ron and sighed.

'But it _is _my fault,' he said, 'surely you can see that? I led Voldemort to Hogwarts. If we came earlier, then we might've stood a chance…'

Ron shook his head.

'You realise what you're saying makes no sense?' he said. 'I came with you to Hogwarts. So if you led You-Know – sorry - Voldemort to Hogwarts, then so did I. And even if you did come earlier, what would it have mattered? V-voldemort would've come anyway. And the people who fought in that battle knew that they had the chance to get killed. They chose to fight. So stop blaming yourself.'

Harry stared at Ron. What he was saying _did _make sense… But that didn't stop him blaming himself for all the deaths he could've prevented…

'I could've gone to Voldemort earlier. I should've! People died while I was procrastinating, trying to figure out what I was supposed to do…'

'It doesn't mean it's your fault, though,' said Ron, sounding exasperated.

'Look, not every death revolved around you! The people who fought in the war… they were fighting for a better world! For freedom! Not because of you, Harry. You were just the one who could stop Voldemort.'

Harry nodded but looked away; dark thoughts were churning around in his mind, threatening to swallow him up… he thought that if he _had _finished Voldemort, then he would feel free, be able to do what he wanted – but instead, he felt more trapped than ever, forced to stay in company of people he could barely look at without feeling guilty…

Ron stared at him.

'Are you going to be ok?'

Harry nodded. The room around him was starting to go fuzzy from fatigue…

'…Well, you can't stay in my room, obviously, maybe in Bill's? Or even Charlie, he won't be going tonight…'

Ron was talking faster than Harry had ever heard him. It was strange, listening to him organising something for once.

'Can I have a shower?' Harry asked suddenly.

'Oh, yeah, sure… you knew where the towels are, I'll grab you some clothes…'

Harry set off down the stairs to the bathroom. He stopped, though, just outside Ginny's bedroom. He could hear muffled voices coming from it, but not what they were saying.

Harry grabbed a towel from the rickety cupboard next to the bathroom door. He waited for Ron impatiently; since Hermione had mentioned it, he noticed more than ever how bad he looked.

His robes were torn and dirty, small cuts and scrapes everywhere over his body. Madam Promfrey's potions had stopped them from stinging and infecting, but she hadn't bothered to change him into the horrible robes that she made the Hogwarts students wear, Harry noticed.

Ron appeared soon after with one of Harry's muggle tops, some jeans and fresh socks.

'Thanks,' said Harry, disappearing into the bathroom.

He quickly undressed, and turned on the tap. The hot water stung his dirty skin, but Harry scrubbed, trying to rid himself of the dirtiness he felt. He rubbed his skin until it felt raw, letting the water rush over his body.

He still felt dirty, and tainted, though. He scrubbed until he couldn't tell if it was water or tears that were running down his face. He felt hopeless, pathetic. He didn't deserve the kindness of the Weasleys… they had enough to deal with… he deserved the slap from Ginny, and all the hateful words that gave him an extra jolt in the stomach when he remembered them. He wanted to stay here, under the running water of the shower, for a long time, until he could figure out his brain.

There was a knock on the door.

'Harry?' called Mr Weasley.

Harry waited, to see if he would go away. He didn't want kind words, telling him it wasn't his fault. He knew it was his fault, and nothing the Weasleys said would change it.

'Harry, I know you're there. Please answer me.'

Harry fought back a loud choking noise that was forcing its way up his throat. He was breathing extremely hard and irregularly.

He heard Mr Weasley sigh deeply, and then walk away.

Harry felt as though he was about to burst. Tears came running out, an icy feeling like he was walking through a ghost…

With much effort, Harry turned off the tap to the shower, climbed out, and dried himself. He then put on his clothes and glasses, and inspected himself in the mirror.

He hadn't shaved in months, there were multiple scratches on his face, and his eyes had purple rings around them, looking dead and gaunt.

Harry shaved, brushed his teeth, and pulled on the clothes Ron had given him. Remembering his wand, still in the pocket of his old jeans, he dashed down to pick it up.

Feeling more satisfied, he picked up the faithful phoenix wand, and warmth flowed through his hand, up to his arm, and again, making him feel more complete.

He opened the bathroom door. A wave of exhaustion rippled through him inexplicitly, and he wondered vaguely where he could sleep.

Mr Weasley came up the stairs at that moment, his bald patch more pronounced, his glasses still askew. When he saw Harry, he jumped a bit.

'Oh! Harry… didn't see you there. Anything I can do?'

'Well… er, I was just wondering if I could sleep somewhere?' Harry felt a pang of guilt as he asked.

'Of course… Well, Ron tells me the ghoul is still in his room… another thing to sort out… so you two can sleep in Charlie's room, he's moving in with Bill for tonight… Then Percy can have his room, obviously… Oh Merlin… Hermione and Ginny can go in there… Fre – I mean, George can sleep with Percy or in his room… Yes, I think we'll all squish.'

'Thanks, Mr Weasley,' said Harry, and he pulled himself up the stairs, which drained him of the little energy he had left. He pulled open a door on the second landing, which he remembered Ron telling him was Charlie's bedroom.

The room was neat and bare. A window looked over the garden, where he could see the sun starting to rise, a desk in which had nothing on it, and a bed at the other side of the room.

Harry saw a camp bed set up, and wondered how it got there, before collapsing onto it, pulling up the duvet, and falling into an instant sleep.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry again for the slow update. My computer broke and it had to get repaired, but luckily no files were lost, so all I had to do was fix up a few mistakes in this chapter!**

**I hope you all had a great Easter, and I'm so glad that you're enjoying my story. I promise another chapter soon! (and this time, I will do it!) Remember to review (:**

**- Lizzie xx**


	5. The Article

Tonks and Remus were chatting with Harry pleasantly, in a nice, golden meadow. The sun gave off a bright glow, obscuring everything but the small area around the. It was so nice; there were sitting there, with no worries at all… but Harry had an uneasy feeling for some reason.

Suddenly, Remus stared yelling at Harry. 'Why did you tell me to go! The baby died because of you!' and Tonks turned into a butterfly and couldn't turn back, until Harry was jumping in the air, trying to reach her before she flew off, but she was flying higher and higher and Harry couldn't reach her…

Harry woke up, covered in sweat and gasping for air. For a moment, he had no idea where he was, until he remembered he was in Charlie Weasley's bedroom, and, judging by the snoring, Ron was here too.

Harry had been at the Weasley's for 2 days now, and he had barely left Charlie's room, apart for meals, which he barely ate due to his small appetite, and going to the bathroom. Ron had told him that everyone wanted to see him, but Harry remained in the bedroom, refusing to believe that anyone really did.

The dead haunted his dreams when he slept, so Harry spent most of the night trying not to sleep, but eventually drifting off and being woken again, usually drenched in sweat, shaking.

Harry looked outside, and, seeing that it was almost sunrise, lay back down in his bed, keeping his eyes firmly open.

This reminded him of the summer before his fifth year at Hogwarts, where he locked himself in his room, thinking he was expelled. But then, he had Hedwig to comfort him, but even she had gone…

Harry lay on his bed, his eyes itching from tiredness, memories running through his brain, draining him of the little energy he had…

Eventually, Ron woke up, with a half–hearted 'Good morning', and then left the room. Harry didn't reply, lying on his back, looking upwards.

He lay there in silence, his mind, for the first time for a long time, blissfully blank.

Interrupting his peace soon after, though, was a loud yell from down stairs.

Harry sat up, shoved on his glasses and ran to the door to hear better.

'Shut up, Mum! You're going to wake everyone…'

'I know, Ron but I can't _stand_ Rita Skeeter! I thought she'd gone, now look her… "Harry Potter's retreat from the Wizarding World". For goodness sake!'

Harry felt his heart sink. He had too much experience with Rita Skeeter and her newspaper articles, and he thought that, considering Hermione's threat from her discovery in their fourth year, that she would've lay down her quill for good.

'… I thought Kingsley would be better than this… Of course, Harry can't see it; he's got enough to deal with. Poor thing, I wish he'd talk to us…'

Harry closed the door after that. He knew where the conversation was going. Countless times had Mrs Weasley come to the door of Charlie's bedroom, but her efforts were futile.

Harry sat down on the camp bed, and thought not about the people who had died in the battle and how he could have avoided it, but where he was going to go. He could hardly stay here forever, that article Rita wrote showed him people were looking…

He suddenly remembered, as a random thought, Snape's body in the Shrieking Shack.

Harry felt both repulsed and guilty; he ought to have thought about it sooner, but surely the body would be absolutely disgusting now.

Harry also thought about the Elder Wand… he had told Dumbledore's portrait that he was going to return it to his grave, but the thought of that also made him cringe.

He would also need to retrieve his clothing and things from Hermione's beaded bag, so that he could leave here… but he hadn't talked to Hermione since the incident outside the Burrow, another thing to weigh down his conscience…

The argument with Ginny was also constantly replaying throughout his mind over and over again, painfully analysing the details.

So many things to think about… And now, Harry knew there was a newspaper article floating about by Rita Skeeter, which, unless Skeeter had miraculously had an ordeal during the war that made her realised how horrible she was, couldn't be good.

The door to the bedroom opened and made Harry jump. Ron and Hermione were standing in the doorway. Ron was holding the _Daily Prophet_, and Hermione looked nervous.

'Harry… You alright?'

Despite sleeping in the same bedroom, Ron hadn't made much effort to communicate with Harry since he had talked to him when they got back. He remembered the muffled sounds coming from Ron's bed when he thought Harry was asleep, which sounded a lot like someone trying not to cry.

'I… well… no. Not really,' Harry's voice sounded croaky after not talking for days.

Hermione sniffed loudly and came over to give Harry a hug. It felt comforting to have someone there, though he missed Ginny's touch…

'Well…' Hermione broke off the hug and glanced at Ron.

'Hermione's parents are still in Australia,' said Ron. 'She wants to go and find them.'

Harry nodded, but felt confused. He didn't exactly want to take off into Australia, not now, at least… but Ron and Hermione seemed to have rehearsed the conversation before, making Harry slightly suspicious. He listened on.

'So… you're thinking of going soon,' said Harry.

'Day after tomorrow, actually…' said Hermione quickly.

'Oh. Ok…'

So they had planned this before. It felt strange for them to be making plans without him.

Ron and Hermione looked extremely uncomfortable.

'How's everyone else?' Harry asked suddenly.

Hermione looked slightly relieved, then her face saddened.

'Oh, well… They're ok… We're all worried about you…'

'Yeah, it would help if you came out of the bedroom, Harry,' said Ron sharply, looking straight at him. 'Mum's got enough to fuss about. Bill's gone back to his place with Fleur, and Percy went back to the Ministry to sort out a few of his things, I think. Charlie's still here, I don't think he wants to go back to Romania for a while yet. George… well, he's… not very good. He hasn't talked to anyone, really, like you. But it's worse in a way, because he just sits and stares. Ginny's taken it really hard. We all have, I guess. But she's always crying, which is really weird. You should talk to her, she would listen to you…'

Harry looked away at the mention of Ginny's name. No, Ginny wouldn't listen to him, because she was furious at him for an unknown reason that Harry could only put down to his fault…

'I know what happened at the castle, Harry,' said Hermione quietly. 'She told me. She feels terrible about it, Harry. She was just upset, emotions running high… everyone was out of it that day.'

'What?' said Ron, 'what happened?'

Hermione sighed. 'They had an argument.'

'What, already? Blimey, Harry, you're terrible…'

'Ginny started it, actually.' said Hermione coolly.

'She slapped me.'

'_What?_' Ron's mouth had fallen open.

'Yeah, she got pretty angry… I did too, at the end…'

Ron shook his head. 'Mental.'

He threw down the _Daily Prophet_ next to Harry on the camp bed.

'Read it. It's better than finding out from someone you don't like, as we've discovered.'

Harry picked up the article and began to read.

_HARRY POTTER'S RETREAT FROM THE WIZARDING WORLD_

_The Chosen One, The Boy Who Lived, Voldemort's Downfall. Harry Potter has acquired a number of names during his years; the latest for killing the world's most feared Dark Wizard, Lord Voldemort._

_But our young hero has vanished from the Wizarding World. Does this mean he is a fraud? Or is he too ashamed to show his face to a world that may blame him for the 56 deaths that occurred at Hogwarts Castle on the night of the battle? How did Potter actually defeat him, when countless, far more skilled wizards have failed?_

_People claim he is hiding at his close friends, the Weasley family's home. But since no one has been able to penetrate the area, his whereabouts remain in question._

_A memorial service for the people who died in the war is taking place on the 7__th__ May, which is a public event. Will Potter show his face? The question remains unanswered._

The article had no picture; it was by far the shortest of Rita's pieces about him, but it stung the most. It contained all the things Harry thought people were thinking about him. He grabbed the paper and tore it in half viciously, and then threw it across the room.

Panting, he stood up and crossed the room several times, before sitting back down.

'Sorry,' he said shortly.

'That's quite alright,' said Hermione. 'She wrote horrible things… Nobody thinks that, really Harry…'

Ron strode across the small room and clapped him on the shoulder.

The door opened again which made them jump. It was Ginny.

'Mum says breakfast is ready, and that you're to come down,' she said, not looking at Harry. She closed the door more forcefully than usual after her.

It was only a few seconds glimpse of her, but Harry could tell she wasn't coping well. Her eyes were puffy, her gaze hard. Her voice was stiff, her skin pale, and she looked more skinny than usual.

'She's not very good…' said Ron lamely.

Harry must've looked pretty shocked, because Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him up with her.

'Come on,' she said. 'Let's eat.'

* * *

**A/N: Hi again! (:**

**I'm breaking this chapter up into 2 parts, because it's a lot longer than the ones I usually write… I just want to extend on the next part a bit more. But I'm still treating it as separate chapters in the story, if you get that.**

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! I really appreciate it 3**

**I'm hoping to update soon…**

**- Lizzie (:**


	6. Out of the Bedroom

**A/N: So sorry for the typo in the first paragraph of the last chapter! 'them' not 'the'. On with the story…**

* * *

Harry stayed in the kitchen after breakfast to help Ron clean up the dishes, which took a very short amount of time seeing as they could use magic. Harry had missed his phoenix wand; it was a delight to use it again, even if only for washing up.

Harry didn't particularly like being out of Charlie's bedroom, though. It made him feel exposed, and every time a Weasley member strayed across his vision, he looked down intently at the dishes.

As he was doing his cleaning up, he recalled the breakfast. No one had eaten much. Mrs Weasley had been crying again, and the meal, like all the others, was a very sullen affair.

Ginny barely touched her plate, and pushed it away after a few bites.

'Eat a bit more, Ginny,' Mrs Weasley had said pleadingly.

But Ginny had shaken her head and run from the table.

The others had left the table soon after Ginny, but Ron, Hermione, Harry and Mr Weasley stayed, which was unusual for Harry, as he was usually the first one to leave. George had eaten all of his food, but it didn't really feel like he was really getting anything out of the meal, like he had just eaten the food without tasting it.

Harry shook his head to clear himself of the memory, and helped Ron finish putting away the dishes into the shelves with a final flick of his wand. Ron then beckoned Harry to follow him again upstairs.

Mr Weasley, Bill, Charlie and Ron had removed the ghoul from Ron's bedroom, and had spent yesterday airing it of the smell. Harry and Ron were to move back into it tonight.

They passed Hermione just outside the bathroom, and she joined them walking up the stairs.

When they finally reached the little attic room, Ron opened the door, but it was completely different to how Harry remembered it.

The walls were still a shocking orange, but the room was empty, stripped of all its previous possessions. The only items in the room were a stripped bed, and a wooden chair. Ron moved over to his bed and sat down, looking around at the room in silence. Hermione walked to the bed too, and sat down next to him. Their hands faintly touched.

'I want to go to Grimmauld Place.'

The words were out of Harry's mouth before he knew it. The idea had been churning through his head since he woke up, and now he knew he needed to confront Ron and Hermione about it.

'What do you mean, Harry? Why would you want to leave? It's safe here… and besides, it's not protected there… people can get in, remember?' said Hermione gently.

Ron was looking at Harry in concern.

'Why d'you want to go? Is it because of Ginny…' The question trailed off.

'No,' lied Harry firmly. 'Well, not _just _that…' He stood up impatiently, and started pacing.

'Listen, tomorrow I have to go and mourn people's deaths in public, deaths that people will blame me for. And don't say they won't,' - Hermione and Ron had both opened their mouths to contradict – 'because some people will. People who read the rubbish Skeeter writes. Then you two are going to Australia for however long, it could take weeks or even months… So I'd have to stay here, while you guys are gone, doing what, exactly? Moping around? Trying to sort myself out in Ron's bedroom?' Harry paused. 'I don't want to do that. I've wasted three days and already Skeeter's published an article to the whole Wizarding World. I want to do something with myself now. That's why.'

He finished and drew in breath. Hermione was the first to speak.

'Harry – you can't – Dumbledore would want you to stay –'

'Yeah, well, Dumbledore is dead, isn't he?' Harry said harshly.

'Harry,' Hermione said nervously, 'we're just worried for you – you're not alone!'

'I just need some space, Hermione!' Harry felt frustrated that she wouldn't understand – _she's leaving, she doesn't know what it's like… _he thought viciously.

'Come on Ron – back me up, here – he can't go, can he?' Hermione's furious mutterings to Ron sounded very distant.

'Harry? Are you ok?' Hermione suddenly sounded worried.

'What? Oh – yes, I'm ok…' Harry realised he was frozen to the spot, staring at the wall. He quickly brought the bedroom back into focus.

'Here, sit down…' Hermione pulled her arm around Harry, and led him to Ron's bed, where they sat down next to Ron.

'So you want to go to Grimmauld Place?' said Hermione, obviously wanting to continue.

'Yeah… I don't have any of my stuff, though… do you still have that bag, Hermione?'

'Oh, yes… You might want to wash your clothes, though, I haven't really gone through it properly -'

'It's fine,' She nodded, and left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Harry looked over to Ron, who hadn't spoken.

'How are you and Hermione going?' Harry asked.

Ron looked up at him quickly. 'Er – good, I think,' he said nervously.

Harry smiled weakly. 'I'm glad. You deserve it.'

Ron got up and walked to the tiny attic window and looked out.

'Everything's changing now,' he said. 'It's going to be better. I know it is.'

Harry nodded. Yes, everything was changing, but he couldn't tell if he liked it or not. A world without Voldemort was, undoubtedly, better than one with, but if he could turn back the clock, he would have done what he did a lot differently…

Hermione burst back into the room, closing the door behind her.

'Got it!' she said. Panting slightly, she sat down with the tiny bag on the floor, and reached into it, most of her arm disappearing.

She pulled out books and clothes, vials containing various dittanies and potions, sleeping bags, rugs, pillows, toothbrushes – the list went on, until the floor around her was covered in piles of stuff.

'Right, so Harry, this stuff is yours, I think – Ron, is this yours? I can't really tell – oh, ok then. And these are all the books I got – I don't really want these, to be honest…'

They sorted through their things until they had all their belongings. Hermione then waved her wand over their clothes, muttering a spell Harry didn't catch, making the clothes fresh and warm.

'There,' she said.

'You're brilliant, Hermione,' said Ron wearily. 'I'm going to get some more rest, but I'll go in Charlie's room again…'

'OK Ron, see you later,' said Hermione. She watched him as he got off the bed, dodged some of the items still on the floor, and leave the room.

Ron closed the door to his bedroom, leaving Harry and Hermione sitting in silence. Harry gazed out of the window, not looking at her, and trying not to feel awkward.

Suddenly, a choked sob from Hermione made Harry whip his head around in surprise.

'Hermione? Are you ok?'

Hermione buried her face into Harry and hugged him tightly.

'What's the matter?' Harry asked, trying to leave the confusion out of his voice.

'It's just – all this – Fred, Tonks, Remus… and everyone is just so – so miserable – and Ginny's not eating – and Ron's so different – and you're not coming with us –'

Hermione broke off, sobbing in his shoulder. Harry put his arms around her, and hugged her. He realised how thin she was, too.

'It's ok, Hermione, shhh,' Harry said, awkwardly patting her back. 'We'll be fine, and everyone will be OK now…'

'I – know, b-but F-Fred's gone… and I d-don't know where my parents are… and Ron w-won't even t-talk to me-e about it when I kn-now he w-wants to-o…'

'Ron told me before that he thought things were OK between you two,' said Harry, surprised.

'I know – it is – but I just want to t-talk about it instead of-f not… It's easier f-for me that w-way.'

'You know you can talk to me about it, Hermione?'

'I do now,' she said weakly.

There was a short silence, and Hermione stopped sobbing.

'I hope you find your parents,' Harry said quietly.

'So do I,' she sighed, let go of Harry, dodged the items on the floor, and sank into the wooden chair in the corner.

'Harry, do you miss Ginny?' she said. 'I know it's a strange question, because you haven't seen her for months. But do you?'

He nodded, but didn't say anything.

'I just thought – if you two fixed up what happened at the castle – then things would be more normal again. Not normal, but maybe she would start eating again, at least…'

Harry felt his stomach churn.

'It – it scares me that she isn't eating,' he said.

'I know,' Hermione said sadly. 'Why won't you talk to her?'

'I – I just think that she'll still be angry with me, or blame me... I don't know.'

'Haven't I told you that she regrets it? She wants to apologise to you, Harry –'

'Well why doesn't she?' said Harry, his anger tempting him. 'She's had a few days to do it now, hasn't she?'

'She's been mourning over her brother, Harry! Just like you've been beating yourself up! Not to mention that you've locked yourself in a bedroom! Don't get angry at her now, just because you're angry you don't have the guts to go up to her –'

'DON'T!' Harry yelled.

'Look – Harry, I didn't mean that –'

'Yes, you did,' said Harry stubbornly. 'Everyone else thinks it too. I'm a coward. I can't even let myself talk to someone without feeling terrible –'

'Why, Harry?' Hermione's eyebrows creased as she spoke. 'Why do you torture yourself? It isn't your fault! So why should you make yourself feel bad because someone else is grieving?'

'Because I caused their grieving! I let Fred die! We were _right there, _Hermione. We saw him die. You can't just let that go!'

'I'm not saying you should let it go!' said Hermione, exasperated. 'I just want you to stop blaming yourself! You didn't kill Fred, did you? And if you think you did, then I'm equally responsible. I was there, too, wasn't I?'

Harry stayed silent and let her words sink in. He couldn't have stopped Fred's death then, but if he'd realised earlier… If he'd been more persistent with Ron and Hermione… If he hadn't obsessed over the Hallows…

He looked at Hermione, who was still in the same, slumped position.

'Are you going to talk to Ginny?' she asked finally.

Harry thought about it for a moment, and then shook his head. Hermione looked surprised.

'Why?' she asked.

'Not now… She needs time to grieve. Like you said.'

'But –'

'I want to sort myself out. Then I promise, I'll come back here and talk to her. Ok?'

Hermione sighed, and then said reluctantly, 'Ok, then. But I think you're being stupid about this…'

Muttering to herself, Hermione got up and left the room as well, leaving Harry to his conflicted thoughts.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews, favourites, follows, etc. They make me so happy every time I see them! 3 **

**School has started (yay…) so updating might become a bit harder. I've tried my best, but this story is turning out to be quite a challenge.**

**Sorry for the slow update (again) but my wifi wasn't working! It's reconnected now, though. So many issues with computers… haha. This chapter was also very hard to write, because there is so much dialogue! I edited this chapter so many times. I tried to get the characters ****_in character_**** as much as I could. This is very hard, because they are all in grief so I have to basically write them totally different. **

**I'm not making Ginny anorexic btw. I just think she will be extremely stressed because of the Harry-at-the-castle incident, and because she has lost close friends, and a brother. I don't think I would be eating too much if I were in her situation.**

**After these next few chapters, the story will start to move along a bit more. I hope you're enjoying it.**

**Remember to review!**

**~ Liz xox (ohthosebooks)**


	7. Hogwarts Memorial

The sun was casting warm rays on the dewy front garden of the Burrow. Harry Potter was standing on the rickety front deck, fiddling nervously with the hem of his robes, occasionally glancing at the gate, as if expecting to see someone. In fact, it would not be unusual if someone were to come through the gate, because today, everyone was leaving the security and privacy of the little house, and facing the Wizarding world at the memorial service.

Harry felt more comfortable outside than locked away inside today. The whole house was silent, broken only by a sniff, or the constant sobbing from Mrs Weasley, and the occasional thud of someone walking.

The service was due to start at 11 am, which seemed too soon to Harry. A slight shiver ran through him as he remembered how soon that was… only 1 hour…

Harry looked up with a start when he heard the gate creak, and saw Bill and Fleur entering, both wearing black robes and grasping each other's hand. When they neared the door, Harry realised that tears were falling down Fleur's face, and she was sniffing quite loudly. Bill stopped and turned to Fleur, and started muttering to her. They didn't seem to have seen Harry.

Harry looked away from them, turning to the brick wall of the Burrow, where he saw a fat beetle scuttling towards him. Something struck Harry. _Beetle… _the tiny animal's markings were very familiar… Suddenly, he remembered.

'Skeeter,' he muttered furiously.

Extremely tempted to squash her with his foot, Harry bent down to scoop the beetle up. Harry cupped Rita in his hands so that she couldn't escape, and then moved to the door quietly, trying to go past without Bill and Fleur noticing.

He checked no one was in the kitchen, and began to look for something to trap her with. He spotted a jar, and – very clumsily – grabbed it and shoved the beetle inside.

He heard the door open, and turned around quickly so his back was to the kitchen table. Bill and Fleur came in without a glance at Harry, who was quite still.

'I'll be back in a moment, ok? I just want to see Mum…' said Bill quietly to her.

'Of course, Bill.'

Bill gave Fleur's hand a squeeze, and then ran up the stairs, leaving her standing alone, wiping her eyes. Harry stood there, not wanting her to notice him. He tightened his grip on the jar, which he was grasping uncomfortably behind him. Fleur sniffed and walked away into the living room.

After she had disappeared behind the wall, Harry followed Bill up the stairs, deciding to tell Ron and Hermione about his discovery. He went as quietly as he could, trying not to draw attention to himself by clunking on the wooden floorboards. Finally reaching the attic room, Harry opened the door without bothering to knock.

'You won't believe–'

Harry didn't finish what he was saying, because what he saw made all thoughts of Rita Skeeter fly from his mind. Ron and Hermione were sitting very close together on Ron's bed; their arms were wrapped around each other, and both were looking at Harry with startled and embarrassed expressions.

Heat spread across Harry's face; in a wild panic, he closed the door again very fast, causing it to slam loudly.

Harry moved away from the bedroom slowly, his stomach churning with embarrassment. _Oh Merlin… _he thought. He stood there for a minute, his face bright red, before he decided he should move.

Harry walked back down the stairs slowly, still grasping the jar awkwardly in his hand. He was so lost in thought, he didn't even notice when he ran into someone.

'Oh – sorry! I didn't –'

'It's OK, Harry. Don't worry about it.'

It was George. His bloodshot eyes stood out painfully on his pale face, with purple rings circling them. Harry realised it was the first time he had heard him speak since Fred's death. He thought he should say something – anything – to let him know he was so sorry, and that he felt terrible…

'George – I'm, er, sorry about what happened. I wish I did something earlier –' Harry knew it sounded stupid, but he felt that he had to say something to him.

But George didn't reply, but turned away from Harry. _Maybe I shouldn't have said anything… _he thought.

'All right everyone,' Mr Weasley's wavering voice echoed through the house. 'It's time to go. Is – is everyone ready?'

No one replied, but Mrs Weasley burst out into fresh sobs. Doors started creaking as the family made their way down the stairs. Harry turned to look at George, and was surprised when he wasn't there, but already walking away down the stairs.

Harry used every bit of willpower he possessed to make his limbs move down to the front door. When he reached the bottom step, though, he couldn't take another step. Ron and Hermione came up behind him suddenly, grasping each other's hands.

'It's OK,' said Hermione throatily, putting her hand on his shoulder. Ron didn't say anything. His eyes were puffy and red, freckles standing out painfully against his pale skin.

'Come on,' said Hermione, gently pushing him forwards.

Harry placed the jar with Skeeter inside it on the kitchen bench as he passed it. _At least she won't be able to write anything horrible today, _he thought.

Harry felt as though the next few steps were as hard as when he had to go down to the forest to meet Voldemort. _Out of the house… into the garden… through the gate… into the paddock… _

'OK,' Mr Weasley said, turning to face the black-clad Weasleys, and grabbing Ginny and Mrs Weasley's hands. 'We're apparating to Hogsmeade station… Everyone knows where that is, don't they?'

They nodded. Harry could tell that Mr Weasley was trying to put off going as long as he could. Mr Weasley looked weary, his face more lined; Harry even noticed a tinge of grey starting to appear through his red hair.

'When you're ready, then.'

Mr Weasley, Mrs Weasley and Ginny promptly vanished with a faint pop. Then Bill and Fleur, Charlie, Ron and Hermione…

Harry twisted on the spot, and then came the familiar feeling of being squashed through a tube, suffocating him –

His feet found solid ground once more. He was outside Hogsmeade station, and there were people _everywhere. _The black crowd was moving towards Hogwarts, yet no one was talking loudly; merely mumbling between themselves. Harry had never remembered the station to be so packed.

He heard mutters as people passed him, shooting furtive glances in his direction. He turned his back on Hogsmeade, and walked with the crowded station to Hogwarts. Harry had barely walked two steps, before a very bright flash went off in his face.

'Mr Potter!' A shrill voice sounded from behind the camera, and a witch in tightly fitted black robes sauntered out, clutching a quill and scribbling very fast on a piece of parchment. 'A few words on what happened that night in May? Where did you disappear to –'

'Oh, leave him alone!' Harry whipped around to see Neville's grandmother walking towards him, a furious look on her face. Neville appeared behind her, and Harry smiled gratefully at him, but he wasn't looking at Harry. He was glaring at the oncoming interviewers, which were coming very quickly, now that they heard that Harry had arrived. 'He'll talk to you lot later, if he feels like it, which he most certainly won't. Clear off, all of you!'

Most of them scattered, but a few lingered, pressing themselves closer to Harry, shouting questions at him. Only when Neville's grandmother pulled out her wand, and threatened to hex them all into snails, did the rest of the reporters vanish.

'Thanks,' said Harry, turning again to face them.

'Not a problem. They shouldn't have been there,' said Neville simply.

His grandmother was already walking away, calling over her shoulder for Neville to follow and rearranging her stuffed vulture hat. Neville grimaced at Harry, said goodbye, and ran over to his Gran.

Harry watched as they disappeared through the crowd of black robes. Only when someone bumped into him forcefully and hissed 'Move it!' to him, did he hastily head for Hogwarts.

Harry didn't look around at the surroundings, but kept his head down. He didn't want to draw any attention to himself. It was bad enough that people were muttering and looking pointedly at him; he didn't want any more reporters asking him questions about that night in May.

Harry walked along the trail where the carriages usually travelled along, but had to stop suddenly because of a line that had formed in front of the gates. There seemed to be some safety procedure to go through before they were allowed in.

As Harry furthered up the line, he realised that Professor McGonagall was standing in the gateway, ticking off names from a thick wad of parchment with her black quill. Her mouth was set in a tight line, and she was looking older, tireder. Harry also noticed the Aurors positioned around the gates, wearing Disillusionment Charms.

'Name?' McGonagall asked in a weary voice, as the family in line before Harry headed off to the castle.

'Er – Harry Potter,' he said.

McGonagall looked up at him sharply. 'Potter!' she said in surprise, and then her face softened. 'Are you alright?'

Harry nodded, though McGonagall did not look convinced. Nevertheless, she let him pass through with a pat on the shoulder.

Harry made his way through the gates and up to the castle as fast as he could. Although the day was warm, a shiver went down his spine as he looked at the castle; most of it was still in pieces from the battle, and it was not a welcoming sight.

Harry followed the family ahead of him through the grounds. He was starting to feel quite sick, and it was all he could do not to take off into the forest.

Harry followed the family down past the castle in the direction of Hagrid's hut. Instead of going down to the right, though, they headed to the left. Harry followed them, and once he made it over the hill, he saw rows and rows of benches placed in front of a wooden podium. Behind the podium was a large, white marble statue of a witch and wizard. It was quite similar to the golden one that occupied the Ministry of Magic when Harry went there for his hearing in fifth year.

Harry made his way down the hill to the benches, but was blocked by Hagrid. He pulled him into a massive, bone-breaking hug, which caused Harry to loose his breath for a few moments.

Hagrid, who was already sobbing quite loudly, let Harry go and sat down on the last row of benches. Harry, who couldn't see any of the Weasleys anyway, followed Hagrid and sat down next to him.

'It's not fair,' Hagrid choked, 'Tonks 'n Lupin 'n Fred –' he broke off, apparently overcome by his emotions.

Harry turned away and stared at the clump of trees next to him, wishing dearly that he could disappear into their depths. He didn't want to be the hero. He didn't want to have seen Fred, Dumbledore, Cedric, or any other people die. Their deaths pierced him in every waking moment – he just wanted to be happy again…

Harry realised that Kingsley Shacklebolt was standing at wooden podium, with his arms stretched wide, signalling attention.

'Today,' he said, in his loud, booming voice, 'we remember the people who lost their lives fighting against Voldemort.'

Though most of the crowd flinched when they heard him say Voldemort, Kingsley continued his speech, seemingly unfazed. Harry could hear sobs all around him now. He wondered where the Weasleys were.

'We lost some brave people to that wizard,' he continued, 'but we are strong enough to recover. Our world was ripped apart by terror and destruction, but together we can rebuild our lives, our homes, and our Ministry. We will always keep our loved ones close to us, in spirit, and in flesh. It will be a stronger, better place to live in…'

Harry zoned out of his speech halfway through. He knew it would be better now that Voldemort was gone, no one needed to tell him _that. _Where was the honour of the dead in all of this? This was not recognition of the people who died; merely a pep talk from the new Minister.

'… We will now hold a minutes silence for the dead,' Kingsley finished his speech, and stepped back, lowering his head to the ground. Harry realised that everyone else was doing the same, and quickly copied. He looked at the loose thread on his robes that he had been fiddling with only an hour and a half ago, and his shoes, which Hermione had insisted that he wear; a simple black leather lace-up. He had hated them at the Burrow, and even more so now.

Remembering that he was supposed to be thinking about the people who died, he quickly averted his thoughts. But all he could think of when he did so was Fred's dead body, the grin still on his face when the curse hit him; Ginny's face when she hit him, full of sadness and anger; Tonks and Lupin, their hands still outstretched to each other in death; and Colin's tiny body, limp on Wood's shoulder. Tears threatened to burn his eyes, and he swallowed, desperately fighting the grief that he had been beating down for a long time now.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was talking again, but Harry barely noticed. He kept his head down until he was sure he wasn't going to cry.

People were milling in front of the memorial now. Hagrid was no longer paying him any attention; he was sobbing loudly again, and it was mingling with noises from the people around him. Harry got up from the bench and walked slowly over to the statue, trying to ignore the heavy feeling spreading through his body.

Now that he was closer, he could see that underneath the statue, a tiny plaque read:

_In memory of the brave who sacrificed their life for peace to the Wizarding World_

_May you live forever in our hearts._

Etched in the white marble were names of people who had died in the war. Harry tried not to read it, in case he saw someone he knew. Instead, he looked around for the Weasleys.

His heart wrenched when he saw Ginny. She was standing at the foot of the statue with tears running down her face. He couldn't resist his impulses; he found himself standing beside her within a few seconds. He slipped his hand into hers, and felt her jump with surprise. His heart was thumping madly; he found his cheeks wet with tears.

He turned his head around, looking for the rest of the family. Hermione was standing almost directly behind Harry; she was leaning on Ron and crying too, but Harry saw a small smile on her face as she looked at his hand interlocked with Ginny's.

Harry continued his hold on Ginny's hand for the rest of the service. He stared at Fred's name engraved in the marble, and noticed other names, too. Tonks was listed, with her father, and Lupin. Colin Creevy was there, too. Lavender Brown… so Hermione had been too late with Fenrir. He even saw Snape's name.

Eventually, the Weasleys decided it was time to go. Hagrid came over to them, and gave them all a huge hug. Professor McGonagall also came up to the family with suspiciously red eyes, going to each family member in turn. When she reached Harry, she murmured something into his ear so quickly he barely heard it:

'Take care of yourself, Potter.'

Lots of people seemed to want to say goodbye to them, too: more professors, people Harry didn't know; even Kingsley managed to get away and pat Mrs Weasley on the shoulder.

When they finally got away and had walked through the grounds, they were subjected to a burly Auror's questioning before they were let through the gates. Harry was the last to be questioned, and was surprised when Ron, Hermione and Ginny were waiting for him; the rest of the family already disapparated.

'Come on, Harry –' Hermione began, only to be cut off by Harry.

'I'm leaving. Going to Grimmauld Place.'

Hermione looked shocked; Ron turned away. Ginny, however said, 'What?'

'I – I have to go. I can't go back,' Harry

'No – Harry, you have to stay –' Ginny was looking at him, her brown eyes wide and alarmed.

'I'm sorry, Ginny,' Harry said sadly. He seized her hand and smiled weakly at her. 'Good luck, you two,' he added to Ron and Hermione. He let go of Ginny's hand, and then disapparated.

* * *

**A/N: I know this is way more than a week. I've been so busy, and this chapter was so hard to write! I tried to make it OK, but I'm not too sure about it. **

**Hopefully the next chapter comes a bit faster. Sorry for the delay. Thanks for reviewing – it makes me really happy, and motivates me. Please continue to (:**

**I think that's it… **

– **Lizzie x**

**P.S: however long I'm away for, I promise that I'll never stop writing this story until its finished. (:**


	8. authors note

hi, it's me. (-:

I just wanted to let you know that I am still writing this story, but I am not going to be able to upload for a while. I want this story to be really well edited, have a believable plot & characters, and keep it canon.

For those reasons, I am going to be going back through the story and editing the chapters to make them a bit more believable. For instance, I am changing the Harry/Ginny 'fight' thing, because I never really liked that part and I thought it was really out of the blue and not in Ginny's character at all (don't worry, there will be another little plot twist thingy to do with them!). I also think I am making some of the characters a lot weaker than they actually are (Ginny again, mainly). So I'm just letting you know that there will be a new chapter out soon, and that the story is changing a bit so if you love me then you will re-read it.

I'll delete this when the new chapter comes out...

- Lizzie Xx

P.S: I'm glad that you like my story, and I'm sorry for this. (-:


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